Butterballs
by TateThePowerpuffFan
Summary: Buttercup tries to find out as to why she and her best friend Butch are not yet boyfriend & girlfriend. She pretends to be extremely sick and then dresses up and poses as the new boy in town. With this disguise, she hopes to "befriend" the Rowdyruff Boys, and discover exactly how Butch feels about her.
1. Curious Thoughts

**Disclaimer by Blossom: The author of this story does not own _The Powerpuff Girls_, nor does he condone the practice of saying that you do when you don't. You're probably not the creative Craig McCracken or the lovely Lauren Faust.**

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**Chapter 1: Curious Thoughts**

**Buttercup's POV**

Butch has been my best guy friend for years. Ever since he decided that the constant violence between my sister and his brothers rendered pointless, we became the best of friends who had not yet made the transition into becoming a couple. He didn't seem to mind that things weren't actually serious between us, but for some reason, I didn't share the same thought process. To me, it felt as though we were missing out on so much that was right in front of us, waiting for the lovebirds to just reach out and take it.

In the morning, we have the opportunity to catch up on the previous evenings that we don't spend together. I think that will be the best time to ask him what it is that he sees in our friendship, and his position on advancing forward in our future. For all I knew, we were hanging by a thin, fragile wire.

In bed I lay, staring at the ceiling fan and its dazzling, rotating motions and patterns. Darkness sloshed over me as I closed my eyes but ceased to catch a snooze. Thoughts raced through my mind; gargantuan visions of apocalyptic proportions. What was to become of us if nothing were to change? I don't suppose that things would remain normal if things actually **_were_** to remain normal.

My anxious mind made for a rather sleepless night, although my energy tanks didn't even feel remotely depleted. For some reason, I was worried about this particular issue more than anything I had ever been worried about in the past. I just had to know more!


	2. Rendezvous With My True

**Chapter 2: Rendezvous With My True**

The next morning, I zoomed down the stairs and flipped the TV on as I fixed myself a bowl of cereal. Flipping through the list of recordings, I came across one of my all-time favorite movies in the queue: _2001: A Space Odyssey_. I've always admired Kubrick's work (as well as the lovely, lovely Ludwig Van. Anyone? Anyone?). Picking up right where my sisters had last left off, I reclined on the sofa with the Chex Mix nestled in my lap, absorbing everything on the screen.

"Buttercup, what are you doing?" I suddenly heard a voice and was being shaken violently. My eyes shot open as I awoke. I blindly swatted and kicked at the air.

"**_Please don't kill me, HAL!_** Oh, it's just you, Dad." Professor had shaken me free of the slumber that I had allowed to mindlessly creep up on me.

"Buttercup, you fell asleep in front of the TV, again! If you don't leave right now, you're going to be late for school!" Zounds! How can I meet up with Butch if I can't even present myself on time? I hopped up from the sofa and flew into my room, powdering my cheeks, slipping on my Kinks t-shirt and jeans, and soared straight to school without the car. 7:05! _**There's still time! **_

Another close call, another detention avoided. Over to the lockers I went, which is where my Butchie and I spent most of the time that we chatted. You know, I've actually even tried to flirt with him, but yet, he didn't seem to actually pick up on any of that. My mind recited what I was to tell him over and over in my head as I hovered over to him. As he turned, he noticed me from the corner of his large, beautiful military-green eye, so he waved at me. A smile of mine formed as I softly touched down next to him. "Hello, Buttercup," he engaged. "How're you doing? Haven't seen you in a few days." Oh, God, I think he's onto me. I tried to play it cool, however.

"Hey, Butch," I replied, rubbing my arm. He was leaning against his locker, eyes hanging half-open, grinning, and chewing some fruity gum, acquired in what I have come to recognize as his "eager face." My emotion levels were off the charts, as were my estrogen levels, unfortunately, attempting to make me look like a total idiot. "I've just been hanging around (I wanted to be _**hanging**_, this was so stupid), not doing much... just TV and whatever homework that I had yet to do."

"I see... you know, if you need any help on anything, just gimme a call. I'm pretty much caught up on every subject, so we could like, hang out and study together, if you're interested."

"That sounds great, although I think I'm good for now (so _**stupid**_), but I'll tell you when I could use your help." Man, this plan was going to hell in a hand-basket, fast. He offered up additional time to hang out, and I just shot it down out of the sky. Damn you, hormones! _Okay, maybe I can still agree to disagree or something, and still find a time to ask him, later!_

"B-Butch-"

**_*Riiiiiiiing!*_**

**_Dammit!_**

**"That's the bell, students! Get to class!" **Ms. Caldwell shouted down the hallway. **_"That means you too, Butch and Buttercup!"_**

"Umm, I guess we can talk some more, later?"

"Sure, of course."

"Okay, bye Butch," I flew away before he could even tell me "goodbye." _What the hell is my problem, today?_


	3. That's What I Call Dysfunction

**Chapter 3: That's What I Call "Dysfunction"  
**

The final bell sounded at 2:30, and I rendezvoused with Butch in the parking lot, where we agreed. I once again began rubbing my arm with perkily smiled as he noticed me slowly approaching him at his car.

"Hey, Butters. How are things?" He leaned back against the driver-side door.

"Oh, it's just the regular old stuff goin' on, I suppose," I stammered like a jackhammer. "I really like your Cadillac."

"Thanks. It's the Escalade that I've been talking about. Wanna' take a ride?" My testosterone (yes, girls _**do**_ have some testosterone) kick-started once again. My mind blew fuses as I tried to mentally concoct what it was that I should say.

"Oh, that's okay, Butch, I have a ride, today." _**Fuck! My brain is trying to ruin my life!**_

"I don't have to take you home, immediately. Don't you wanna' just take it for a little spin?" My heart said "yes," but my mind said "Jagger" (I know, what the hell?) I was fighting an interior war, but I was allies for neither side, and I wasn't neutral, either!

"Sorry, Butch. Not today, it's not a good time!" I began to sweat. Suddenly, I felt compelled to just fly away. I had no idea as to where, exactly, but anywhere but here was fine... said my overreactant, irritable brain. It was being more protective of me than a farmer with his daughter on the dating scene. I knew that this psychological game of "cat and mouse" couldn't continue on like this, so I concluded that if this shenanigan were to continue on, it would soon become too excessively awkward for both of us.

My body ended up taking me home. Into my bed I collapsed, and my over-complicated, panicking, and excessively-exaggerating mind made lousy, unsuccessful attempt to concoct some elaborate scheme to solve this crisis, because honestly, I was starting to feel a little cuckoo.

Suddenly, the answer hit me like a ton of Bricks.


End file.
